by Kylie Logan
“We hated each other,” he said, then turned so he could see us and gauge our reaction. “Everyone on the island knew that. Vivien and I, we hated each other.”
“Because of the Indian burial mound.”
“She didn’t disclose it when I bought the property.” He bit through the words.
“So you took her to court.”
At Kate’s comment, he gave a begrudging nod. “And then she took me to court about some silly something. And then I countersued. And on and on and on.”
My hands on the table, I leaned forward. I knew this wasn’t the end of the story. “But . . .”
The expression that crossed Zane’s face was half smile, half I-can’t-believe-it-ever-happened. “But then one day, something clicked. Something . . .” He searched for the word. “Powerful. Impossible to resist. You’re right.” He looked my way. “Vivien and I were having an affair.”
“She broke up with Alex because of you.”
“Yes,” he told me. “Not that they were all that serious to begin with, but they’d been seeing each other for a while. After we got . . . involved . . . she knew it wasn’t fair to string him along. As for me, I haven’t even looked at another woman since the day I realized that Vivien and I . . . well, we were soul mates. I know that sounds weird and old-fashioned, but it’s true. It was like we were two pieces of the same person, like we weren’t complete when we weren’t together.”
That much I suspected was true. There were no two other egos on this or any other island that were as big, or as self-absorbed. In a lot of ways, Zane and Vivien were a match made in heaven.
But I couldn’t help but think that sort of overpowering attraction was bound to come along with baggage.
“So how did you feel about Vivien then?”
“You mean after we started seeing each other?” Zane grabbed a box of orange Tic Tacs on the counter and flipped it open, then thought better of it and set the box down. “There were times we actually got along. Can you believe it? And I’m not just talking about in bed. Once, Vivien had me meet her at a place she was selling over on Middle Bass.”
“Marie Brisbane’s house.” I took the chance of mentioning the name of the lady who’d stopped in at Vivien’s office when Kate and I were there and got lucky; Zane sucked in a breath, surprised I knew so much.
“Vivien made dinner,” he said, his expression settling and his eyes taking on a faraway look. “Candles and flowers on the table. Dinner on the stove. She could be that way, you know.” Zane shifted his gaze to me and Kate, eager for us to understand. “There was a side to Vivien that most people never saw.”
“And she liked it that way.” Again I took a chance, and again, when Zane nodded, I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. “She wanted to appear tough and strong and intractable. That’s why she didn’t want anyone to know that you two were seeing each other.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“You could have been angry about that,” Kate suggested.
Zane’s smile was thin and quick. “I could be. I guess I was at first.” He puffed out a laugh. “That gave us something else to fight about. Like we needed it! But I decided . . .” He twitched his broad shoulders. “I couldn’t live without her. It was as simple as that. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to play by Vivien’s rules or I was going to lose her. And her rule was that no one could know we were seeing each other. It was a secret. Our secret. I suppose in a lot of ways, that made the whole thing more delicious.”
“And the evening of the murder?” I asked him. “You weren’t out to get an ice-cream cone, were you? You were at Estelle’s with Vivien.”
“No,” he said. “Not at Estelle’s. Vivien and I . . . We met at that house next door to her aunt’s that afternoon. Vivien told me she had some people coming over to pay for furniture in the evening and she knew she couldn’t stick around, but I fell asleep after she left. I was just leaving there when you arrived.”
“What time did Vivien leave?” I asked him.
He thought about it for a moment. “Three. Maybe four.”
“And she went right to Estelle’s?”
“That’s what she told me she was going to do.”
“And you didn’t see anyone else around?”
He scraped both his hands through his hair. “Don’t you think I haven’t asked myself the same question a thousand times? If only I hadn’t fallen asleep! Maybe I would have seen something. Maybe I could have done something. Something—” His voice broke. “Something to save her.”
“Did she talk about anyone who would want to hurt her?” Yeah, I knew it wasn’t fair to keep peppering Zane with questions when he was so emotional, but that’s exactly why I did it. If he was upset, his guard might be down, and if his guard was down, maybe I could get some answers.
“There was that Cody fellow,” Zane said. “You know about him? The police do. They say he didn’t do it, but I’m not convinced. Vivien had a restraining order against him.”
“Cody says he’s the one who should have taken an order of protection out against Vivien. He says she was obsessed with him.”
“Right!” The single word packed a powerful dose of sarcasm. “He’s nuts. He’s always been nuts. It has to have been Cody.”
“But there were other men, right?” Another sensitive question asked at a vulnerable time. Hey, no one ever said investigating a murder was pretty. “Was there someone else she might have broken up with?” I asked Zane. “Someone other than Alex? He doesn’t hold a grudge against her but somebody else might. Or how about someone she might have mentioned in connection with another real estate deal gone wrong?”
I don’t think it was a trick of the light there below deck; Zane’s cheeks really did get red. “You act like I knew her really well, but to tell you the truth, Vivien and I, we didn’t do a whole lot of talking. I think that’s why that dinner on Middle Bass was so special, why I’ll always remember it. It was one of the few times we actually tried to get to know each other.”
There didn’t seem to be a whole lot more to say. I looked Kate’s way, and she got the message. She went to the steps and I followed her.
Up on deck, I squinted against the brightness. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I told him.
Zane tipped his face to the sun. “I think that’s one of the hardest parts of this whole thing,” he admitted. “She’s gone and I feel like hell, and no one knows it. I’m supposed to just be getting on with my life like nothing happened. There are even a couple people who’ve congratulated me and told me how happy I must be now that Vivien’s not around to make my life difficult. I want to tell them—” He bit back whatever else he might have said.
“You really did care about Vivien, didn’t you?” I asked.
“In spite of the Indian burial mound!” Zane’s smile was lopsided. “In a way, I have that mound to thank for the most incredible months of my life. If Vivien and I had never fought about it in the first place . . .” He let his memories trail away.
Kate hopped off the boat and onto the dock, and I was all set to follow her when I thought of one more thing. I turned back to Zane.
“What about the bucket of water?” I asked him.
“Oh, that.” He waved away the question. “It was just a prank.”
“A prank that you arranged ahead of time.”
His eyebrows twitched. “How do you know?”
“Chlorine,” I told him. “The water didn’t come from the lake and there aren’t any pools very close to the club. You brought the water with you.”
He didn’t confirm or deny. He didn’t have to. “Vivien liked to be the center of attention,” he said. “I guess that’s not a big surprise to anyone who ever met her. She honestly believed that the world revolved around her, and she was afraid . . .” He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “She knew the Twins were bound to come to the m
emorial service. Vivien sold Tara to them and they were on good terms. Not exactly best friends, but they had drinks together once in a while. Vivien was afraid that when they arrived at the memorial service, all attention would turn to them. And she right, wasn’t she?”
“So it was her idea? She’s the one who asked you to bring the bucket of water?”
This time, Zane’s smile was wide and dazzling. “You bet she did! And she made me promise I’d dump it right on top of her at exactly the right moment when it would cause the biggest sensation!”
18
To say that South Bass Island was buzzing the next day was putting it mildly. The gala would begin at six, the ban on driving would go into effect an hour before that, and people were psyched like I hadn’t seen them psyched before, not even the previous summer when the entire island celebrated Bastille Day and murder, mayhem, and art theft ensued.
My guests (they didn’t have tickets to the gala but planned to hang around outside to see the costumes and the decorations and—they hoped—the Twins) were just as excited as everyone else, and after a breakfast of quiche, fresh fruit, and yogurt, they were eager to get out and check on all the other activities planned for the day.
“Hey, look at this!” Brad Newcomb, a big guy with a big voice and a big appetite for quiche (he and his friends had gone through four), waved his newspaper over the breakfast table. “There’s a party in the park this afternoon. A special reunion for the alumni of Put-in-Bay High School.”
His wife, Shelley, was as quiet as her husband was loud. She chinked her coffee cup down on its china saucer. “You have a high school here?” I was just gathering the breakfast dishes and she looked my way. “On such a small island?”
“Eight graduated this year,” I told her. “From what I understand, it’s one of the biggest classes in years.”
“How nice! The kids must get a lot of individual attention.” Kim Huntley, who sat across from Shelley, had mentioned earlier that she was a teacher in the suburb of Toledo where the six friends lived. It was no wonder she was interested in the island school. “It must be hard, though, getting enough kids to participate in things like sports and other extracurriculars. Isn’t a band supposed to be playing this evening? There can’t be enough kids in a school that size to make up a band.”
“There’s a school over on the mainland that’s joining them.” Kim’s husband, Grant, pointed to an article in the newspaper open next to his coffee cup. “That’s what it says here. And alumni are going to join with the band tonight, too. The whole thing is going to be great fun. What time does that reunion start?”
Brad consulted his newspaper. “Looks like noon. We might as well go, what do you say?” Apparently, he knew his friends well enough to know they’d fall into line. Just like Brad did, they pushed back their chairs. “We’ve got a couple hours. We can tour around the island, then head over to the park for lunch and see what’s up.”
I wished them well and reminded them that I’d serve a light snack at four before I got ready for the gala, and once they were gone, I cleaned up the dishes and took a cup of coffee out to the front porch.
Since it was sure to be one of the busiest weekends on the island all summer, we were fortunate to have continued good weather, and I sat for a while and watched the waves gently slap the shore at the little park across the street, glad to see that things were going well not just for the gala, but for all the extra activities that had been scheduled, too, like that school reunion.
“School.” Automatically, my gaze slid toward Chandra’s house. There was no sign of her that day, but I couldn’t help thinking that she was an alumnus of the school, just like Bill had been, and that made me wonder if Chandra would attend the reunion.
I was on my feet before my coffee was finished. After all, now that I knew that Zane Donahue and Vivien Frisk had been carrying on an affair, it made Zane look less like a suspect.
And that left only one.
• • •
DeRivera Park is a lovely oasis of green in the center of bustling Put-in-Bay. The park is named after Jose de Rivera St. Jurgo, a Spaniard who bought what is now South Bass and Middle Bass Islands back in the mid-1800s. These days, it’s a play center for kids, a place where visitors can eat at picnic tables, and often, the center of island festivities. It’s right across the street from the marina so it’s a natural place to see residents and tourists alike come and go.
Trying to do just that, I stood on tiptoe and did my best to look over the heads of the people who were gathered in the park, and when that didn’t work (I’m not very tall), I climbed up onto the bench of a picnic table and looked around. It was a little past noon and after a reciting of the Pledge of Allegiance and the singing of both the US and Canadian national anthems by a woman who had more enthusiasm than talent, the Put-in-Bay school reunion was in full swing. No, I had not gone to school on the island. Back when I was in school, I’d never even heard of South Bass Island. But islanders aren’t picky about things like that, and I was greeted by people I knew and didn’t know and only a couple backed away or looked right through me as if I weren’t there. When it came to dangling the possibility of getting the curly maple highboy (not to mention his lame attempt at picking me up), Quentin Champion might be a loser, but he’d apparently been true to his word about putting a stop to the rumor that I was a criminal nutcase. As the years went by and I thought longingly of the highboy, maybe that would be enough to soothe my soul.
Or not.
Maple highboy aside, I bought a hot dog from a stand run by the school athletic boosters, and while I chomped it down, I did my best to keep an eye out for Chandra and tried to get into the swing of the reunion. In honor of the occasion, the park gazebo was draped in blue and white, the school colors, the alumni committee sold raffle tickets, and next year’s senior class (all four of them) acted as hosts. I saw Kate at one of the picnic tables with ferryboat captain Jayce Martin, but they were deep in conversation and I didn’t interrupt. Jayce had had a thing for Kate for as long as I could remember and their relationship was inching along. Far be it from me to interrupt the snail’s pace of love.
I did see Luella, though, near a vendor who was selling ice cream out of a cart, and I caught her eye and waved, then hopped off the bench and went over to see her.
She’d just bitten into a chocolate-coated ice-cream bar, and she motioned to the vendor for another one and handed it to me.
“I’ve got a ball gown to get into tonight,” I reminded her, but hey, I’m never one to refuse ice cream. I ripped off the paper and took a bite and wiped chocolate off my chin.
“Pretty nice party, huh?” Licking at the dripping ice cream, Luella glanced around at the knots of people chatting around us. On the far side of the park, a woman spied a man she’d apparently gone to school with and hadn’t seen in a long time; she threw open her arms and squealed and the two of them hugged.
“Not too many from my class left,” Luella said, and her smile was bittersweet. “Used to be we all thought we’d be here forever. You know how it is when you’re young!” She shook her shoulders and glanced around the crowd while she finished up the last of her ice cream. “Still plenty of people I know here, and it’s good to see them.”
The sun was hot and my ice cream was melting fast. I made a valiant effort to wolf it down before it dripped all over me, and when I was done, I tossed the stick in the nearest trash can and reached for one of the napkins on the ice-cream cart so I could wipe my hands. “You haven’t seen Chandra, have you?”
Luella slid me a look. “I talked to Kate. I know you two had a chat with Zane Donahue yesterday. You don’t think he did it, do you? That’s why you’re looking for Chandra. You can’t really think Chandra—”
I wanted to defend Chandra, honest. But the only sound that came out of me was a screech of frustration. “I’m trying to prove she didn’t do it,” I wailed. “And she’s b
locking me at every turn. What’s she up to, Luella?”
She shook her head. “I wish I knew. The woman can be as crazy as a loon, that’s for sure. And she can be stubborn, too, when she puts her mind to it.” Thinking, she scratched a hand behind her ear. “She’s not cooperating, huh?”
“Every time I talk to her, I’m left with more questions. The last time I went to her house—”
I didn’t have time to finish the story and tell Luella about the flickering candles and the pictures of Bill Barone, because a silver-haired man ran up and scooped Luella into a hug, then lifted her off her feet and twirled her around. When he set her down, he grinned, and so did Luella. The man had a face creased with laugh lines and eyes as blue as the sky above our heads, and he was wearing a white cardigan sweater with a big blue letter P on it, for the Put-in-Bay Panthers.
“Frank Tolliver!” Luella’s smile lit up the park. “How many years has it been? You didn’t make it to the last reunion.”
“Cathy, my wife, she was sick,” Frank said and his smile faded just a bit. “She passed about a year and a half ago. So here I am, and I’m planning on going to that silly gala tonight, too.” He gave her a broad wink. “You’re going to save a dance for me, aren’t you?”
Luella promised she would and, still smiling, she watched Frank walk away.
“Oh, what a crush I had on Frank when we were in school together!” she said. “He left the island right after we graduated. Joined the military, I think, and he’s been back a time or two. I always liked Frank.”
I made a noise that I hoped made it sound as if I was listening.
“I said . . .” Luella poked me in the ribs with her elbow. “I said I liked Frank, but from that look on your face, I might as well have said I like Frankenstein. Are you paying any attention to me? You’ve got that faraway look in your eye, like you’re thinking about something else.”